


at least we try

by xombiebean



Series: rain on me [2]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Not Beta Read, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:34:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25585996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xombiebean/pseuds/xombiebean
Summary: Nicky has never—will never—feel as wanted as he does with Joe’s eyes and hands on him. What they feel for each other—it is more than love.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: rain on me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854460
Comments: 6
Kudos: 280





	at least we try

They fell asleep curled together, and came unspooled as they slept. Nicky wakes to find himself lying half on top of Joe, who is snoring loudly, mouth open, lying flat on his back. It is still dark here in their bedroom, but Nicky can see the cold morning light already beginning to seep through the curtains/sneak around the curtains. He shifts, slowly, carefully adjusting his weight so that he can slip away and go meditate in the garden—

And finds himself flat on his back with Joe looming over him, the cold muzzle of a gun biting into the soft underside of his jaw. Joe’s eyes are hard, unseeing.

“Yusuf,” he says softly, trying to relax. “Yusuf. You are here with me, Nicky. It’s Nicolo.”

The barrel of the gun presses deeper against his skin, the bite of it cold and unyielding. Joe clicks the safety off.

“We are in our bedroom. You are safe. You are in bed. Yusuf. Yusuf. Joe. My love, my darling. Last night we made love and fell asleep and now it is almost dawn. I woke you up because I was going to go outside and meditate. I love you, Yusuf. You are safe. We are safe and we are together.” Nicky keeps his voice slow and steady, calm and even. He talks in circles, repeating himself, just to keep himself talking. “I love you, Yusuf. I love you.”

He can see Joe come back to himself little by little, can see Joe beginning to wake from the nightmare holding him. His grip on the gun slackens, but Nicky doesn’t dare try to take it away. Not yet. It would only send him spiraling deeper, falling backwards into the episode he’d just escaped. The need to hold onto their weapons have been ingrained into them, after centuries of bloody battles. Taking the gun now could trigger an instinctive reaction that would result in a lot of blood on a bed of which Nicky is rather fond. They’ve killed each other countless times, but this one—this one would wreck Joe. So instead, Nicky breathes deeply and slowly, and he waits. He knows that Joe won’t hurt him.

“Nicolo,” Joe breathes. His hazy expression clears, and there is a moment of brief clarity before his face crumples. Nicky moves slowly but deliberately, taking the gun from him and clicking the safety back on before blindly placing it on the bedside table. “Nicky,” he says, his soft voice broken. 

“It’s okay,” Nicky says. “It’s okay.”

“I almost—”

“You wouldn’t hurt me.” Nicky can see that his words aren’t reaching him. Joe looks shell shocked. Cupping the back of his neck, Nicky pulls him close. “You didn’t hurt me. You wouldn’t. Not like this, Yusuf.” Because they killed each other for centuries, and they’ve hurt each other when sparring, and they’ve hurt each other when they fuck because sometimes they crave it. But not like this. “It’s not my time yet,” Nicky says, and closes the gap between them. He kisses Joe with a tenderness that turns to raw need. His hand slides up from the nape of Joe’s neck to tangle in his curls. A shift of his weight, a twist of his hips, and Nicky rolls them, cradling Joe’s head to soften the impact. Joe grunts when his back hits the mattress.

Joe skates a hand up Nicky’s torso, and he can’t help the shiver it elicits. “Look at you,” Joe says. Nicky has never—will never—feel as wanted as he does with Joe’s eyes and hands on him. What they feel for each other—it is more than love. It is being.

“Why are you so far away?” Joe asks. It would sound plaintive if his gaze wasn’t so reverent.

An eternity could pass, and Nicky would never tire of looking at Joe, of touching him, of feeling his touch on his skin. Joe is beautiful, and it takes his breath away. “My darling,” Nicky says, leaning down to kiss him.

The air in his lungs gets punched out of him as Joe flips them, and Nicky lands with a loud thud on his back. Joe looks pretty damn pleased with himself as he straddles him. Nicky can’t help the indignant little huff that escapes him.

“I think I like it better like this,” Joe says.

Nicky shrugs, all feigned nonchalance and aloofness. “I was going to do all the work and let you lie back and enjoy it but if this is what you prefer—”

Joe catches him as he tries to make his move, and pins his arms over his head. “Got you,” he croons. He rubs his beard obnoxiously against Nicky’s face, making Nicky laugh as he struggles to get free. Joe kisses him, slow and deep, and when he pulls back, Nicky strains to follow him. “Ah ah ah,” Joe says, scolding him. “I’m in control now, my love.”

Nicky kicks ineffectually, trying to buck him off, and Joe settles his weight and leans in to kiss his throat. He takes his time, working a hickey high up on Nicky’s throat. Joe plays him as if he was born to which, if you ask Nicky, is the reason why they were born when they were. The hickeys will heal in a matter of minutes, but Joe knows Nicky’s most sensitive spots and exploits them ruthlessly. Nicky’s not sure who is more irritated by how quickly the hickeys heal: Joe for not being able to leave a claim or Nicky for not being able to flaunt it. 

A low grade arousal buzzes up his spine, and he shifts desperately beneath Joe, aching for friction.

Joe pulls away. “Was there something you wanted?” he asks, his tone arch. He’s enjoying this, Nicky can tell. 

“From you? Not a thing.” Nicky says, trying to sound blasé but not quite succeeding.

Joe grinds against him, and his grin is absolutely wicked. “So this isn’t what I think it is?”

“Not even a little.”

Joe kisses him, open-mouthed and filthy, and Nicky opens up for him immediately, desperate and wanting. He hid his feelings for Joe for so long that even now that they have the better part of eternity, he doesn’t want to deny them even a moment. He loses himself to the kiss, to the moment. It’s lush. It’s vibrant. It’s everything Nicky’s ever wanted, and even now he cannot believe that he can have it. It still feels too good to be true, even after all this time.

They part, breathing hard, and Nicky smiles at Joe, his expression full of tenderness. “I love you,” he says.

Joe kisses him again. “I love you.” He makes the mistake of letting go of Nicky’s wrists, and Nicky takes advantage of the moment by tickling Joe mercilessly. He shakes with laughter under Nicky’s hands, ineffectively trying to fend him off. “I yield, I yield,” Joe yelps, and rolls off of him. They lie next to each other, chests heaving, and this—this full-hearted feeling—must be what it feels like to be home.


End file.
